The Two Knights
by Night Panther
Summary: The life of a knight is not easy, especially for Lancelot and Rae. Lancelot shares his troubles and worries with his friend Rae, a fellow lady knight. The two knights are close friends, but Lancelot begins to feel something more... CHAPTER 2 UP
1. The Bow and the Arrow

For a country like Britain, a day like this one was considered good weather. It was not raining, and it was not snowing, but a fairly thick layer of snow covered everything surrounding the castle. The castle grounds looked breathtaking this evening, however, as the golden sun sank beneath the horizon.

At the castle, a maiden by the name of Rae took advantage of this twilight hour to practice her archery before night fell. She was a lady knight, the only one in the world, as far as anyone knew. At twenty-one, she was the youngest of the Knights of the Round Table, which was what the people called the knights who fought under Arthur's command. It was known across the land that Sir Arthur was a noble and honorable knight, as well as undefeated in battle, and one day he was to become a great king.

He and his Knights had just come back from a long and dangerous mission. They returned, but not alone. During their mission they managed to rescue two prisoners who had been unjustly arrested and abused by their dictator. The prisoners were Woads: one was a young boy, who was so ill when they found him that it was a miracle that he returned with them alive. The other was a young woman, who was born of noble blood among her people. When the Roman Marius came and dominated her village in Britain, she and anyone else who refused to work for him were put in the dungeons and tortured.

Guinevere, the name of the young woman, was very outspoken and at first even argued with Arthur, who was British but fought for Rome, about his allegiance. Somehow though, by the time they all returned to the Roman embassy in the British Hills, Arthur had fallen in love with this bold and beautiful maiden. He confessed this secret affair to his right-hand knight and friend, Sir Lancelot. Lancelot, however, thought it not wise to love a Briton, but did not have the heart to tell his friend so.

So now at the castle, everyone had just finished feasting and welcoming the Knights, and Rae was walking along the snow-covered ranges to the target that she thought suited her best. But as she drew back the string to fire, she heard footprints behind her. She let go of the arrow, and it missed the bull's eye, landing on the far edge of the target. She glared at the target, and then she heard a young man speak.

"Your aim is not as sharp as usual, Rae," said Lancelot. "You are our best archer, and I know your eyes are much keener than that." He sat down on a bench not far from where she stood.

She recognized the voice and turned around, intending to be cross with Lancelot. Though when she faced him, she saw he was not looking at her. He had his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, and he was staring at the ground in front of her, his eyes distant and a frown on his handsome face. She had known him for seven years now, and he did not usually comment on her shooting unless it was good, for he was like an understanding older brother to her. She knew something had to be wrong. It was true; he was like a brother to her, but lately she had been feeling differently about him somehow. The last time she saw him so distressed, she had tried to comfort him as he always did for her. But many times she found she had to resist the urge to touch his face while they were talking. One time she even had a dream in which Lancelot had kissed her, and she had not wanted to wake up. This sudden passion scared her. She tried not to think about why she was feeling this way, afraid of what might happen if she did.

She aimed once again at the target, pulled back and fired, and the arrow landed right on the bull's eye. Then she walked over to where his bench was, and sat down next to him. She placed her bow in her lap, but the bow was so long that its end extended into his lap, though he did not mind.

After a silent minute, she asked softly, "What's wrong?" and she looked sideways at him, her dark eyes wise and wistful.

He glanced at her and said, not very convincingly, "Why would you think anything was wrong?"

She said nothing, but after a second looked away and stared out over the archery ranges, her eyes sad. Sensing that something was troubling her mind, he softened. He looked at her and saw that her lovely face was tired and weary. It saddened him to see that her eyes -- those eyes that never stopped shining -- held painful thoughts. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her, something he has done many times on occasion when she was upset. But it would not be appropriate now, since it was he who was the one who was supposed to be troubled. However, he could not forget the fragrance of her hair when she was in his embrace -- the sweet smell of lavender. And more than once this fragrance had almost driven him to kiss his maiden friend, but he had stopped himself in time. He knew in his heart that as knights, nothing could ever happen between them....

He suddenly snapped out of his reverie, silently scolding himself for thinking about such things again. His thoughts went back to Arthur and Guinevere. Sighing, he gently took the bow from her hands and held it up in his. "This is a good bow," he said quietly, fingering the engravings upon it.

"You gave it to me," said Rae, wondering why he was speaking of the bow at a time like this.

"Yes, I know. I knew it would prove useful to you before long. Many a target you have hit with this bow. Your aim has become exceptional...." He drifted off, and neither one spoke for a long time. Then suddenly he said, "Tell me something, when you were aiming just now, you hit the target. And you hit it because you were concentrating completely on the target, were you not? If there was a distraction, do you think you would have hit it?"

Rae remembered the distraction earlier, the distraction that Lancelot was apparently oblivious to being the cause of. "No," she said.

Lancelot seemed very thoughtful at this answer, and said, almost like a question, "Then there can be no distractions."

Rae now understood. She chose her words carefully and she spoke gently, "But in order to shoot at a target, every bow must have an arrow. Without an arrow, there would be no targets at all."

Lancelot looked at her, his brown eyes shining, something dawning on his face. He did not speak, however, but looked away, and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

And Rae said quietly, "Maybe she is his arrow."


	2. The Thinking Bridge

The afternoon had turned into early evening, and the skies were a light gray and the wind cold. It had snowed that morning, so the blanket of snow outside was fresh. Rae was in her bedroom, dressing for dinner. She and the rest of the Knights had been at the Roman embassy for a few days now, and since their arrival, she had not worn her armor. Her wardrobe was now more like Guinevere's, with delicate dresses that showed femininity. Rae chose a particular one tonight -- pale blue silk that exposed the shoulders but was modest everywhere else.

Why did she feel this sudden need to look exceptionally nice? To that question she knew the answer but denied it. She would not think about such feelings -- feelings that confused her and kept her awake at night. Yet she could not tolerate the thought of looking repulsive in his presence -- even though he had seen her covered in blood many times during battle. Nevertheless, she did all she could to look her best. Rae smiled at herself, satisfied with how she looked, when her eyes fell on her armor. Staring at it, her head was suddenly flooded with thoughts and memories. True, she liked dressing beautifully, but she missed her armor, which had protected her for so long. And yet she could not help but feel that it would not be long before she would wear it again...

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. "Yes?" she called.

"Rae?" said a man's voice from the other side. "It's Arthur. I have something important to speak to you about. May I come in?"

"Of course," said Rae, and the door opened as Arthur appeared.

Arthur was already dressed for dinner, and he smiled at Rae as he said, "You look very nice, Rae. I'm sorry for bothering you at this time."

"It's no bother," said Rae lightly. "I was finished anyway."

"Good." Arthur smiled again, then paused, as if he was not sure as to what to say next. "I shall tell you what I came to tell you then. You have been loyal to me, as the other Knights have been, and I owe my life to you. But all of you have done more than enough for me. So tomorrow, Rae, you and the others are free to go home."

Rae, caught off guard by such an announcement, was speechless. She looked at Arthur, who was smiling, but Rae could see some sadness in his eyes. "Arthur--" she began, but Arthur cut her off.

"I will miss you," he said, his expression gentle. "You were always a fearless one...and as good as any of the other knights." He beamed at her, and then he said, "Rae, have you seen Lancelot? I've looked everywhere for him, and he is the only one of the you to whom I've not told the good news."

"I will tell him," said Rae. "I've not seen him, but I shall find him before dinner."

"Thank you, Rae. I will see you in a while then." Arthur nodded as a sign of farewell, as did Rae, and he exited the room.

Rae was left with confused thoughts. She was now free...she would go home tomorrow...and Lancelot too. But he did not know. She had to go tell him. Thinking of where he could be, she put on her cloak and left her chamber.

The sun was starting to sink in the pale sky, and Rae could see where it was passing the horizon. And it was cold outside, but Rae was used to this weather, which persisted almost year-round in Britain. Not shivering in the least, she tread across the castle grounds, her posture tall and noble, as it always was. Her cloak and dress fluttered in the wind, along with her long, raven hair. She walked toward the setting sun, and it was a while before she stopped to look back at the castle, which was then small and distant to her eyes.

Turning around, she faced a great river. This river, unlike other wide and deep rivers, was not loud and violent. The blue waters ran quietly toward the sunset, and the peaceful sound of the gentle rushing was soothing. There was a wide wooden bridge built across it. On this bridge stood a young man with dark curly hair, and he was leaning against the railings of the bridge, facing the sunset and staring out into the waters. Rae stepped onto the bridge, and she stood a few feet from the man. Acknowledging her presence, the young man turned his head and looked at her. He looked as if he had been distressed before she came, but he smiled warmly when he saw her and waited for her to speak first.

"We leave tomorrow," said Rae, not smiling nor frowning.

Lancelot looked at her. With her hands behind her back, Rae looked so sweet and innocent. "You look beautiful," he said. Beckoning her over, he added, "What's the occasion?"

"Dinner," Rae said simply as she joined him.

"Only dinner?" he said, chuckling. His smile faded almost as quickly as it had come. "But I suppose this dinner is special."

"Our last dinner," said Rae vaguely. "Arthur looked everywhere for you. It's no wonder he could not find you. I thought I would never reach this place."

"You remember this place?" asked Lancelot.

"Yes, you brought me here when I first joined the Knights."

Lancelot nodded. "You were only fourteen then."

"You called it your 'Thinking Bridge'. It was your secret place where you came to settle your thoughts when you were troubled. And you told me it was your favorite place in the world...except for home."

After a silent moment, Lancelot said quietly, "And tomorrow we go home."

Neither one said anything. Lancelot and Rae stood side by side on the Thinking Bridge, and together they watched the sun slowly disappear beyond the horizon.


End file.
